


Now She Knew

by krasnoe_solnishko



Category: Maleficent (Disney Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, First Time, Jealousy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-19 12:46:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22677976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krasnoe_solnishko/pseuds/krasnoe_solnishko
Summary: Did he see himself as a savior? As a lover? Anything more than the simple servant he was? Did he feel entitled to it because of their closeness, of her utmost trust? Did he consider himself human enough to want such things? A vain, audacious creature._______Maleficent sees things she doesn't want to see and they make her reconsider her own feelings.
Relationships: Aurora & Diaval (Disney), Aurora/Diaval (Disney), Borra/Maleficent (Disney), Diaval/Maleficent (Disney)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 85





	Now She Knew

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of thanks to Jeslieness for all the beta work and support. Without her I would have been too lazy even to start anything.

She felt confused.

She felt furious.

She felt sick to her stomach.

How had he dared?

Maleficent turned around and hastily left the room. She knew that she was fleeing but it was that or doing something particularly ugly and stupid.

She jumped from the balcony into the evening sky and flew - as fast and as far away as she possibly could. She needed space to cool her fury, to calm her mind.

After the first anger passed she slowed a little and tried to see him with Aurora's eyes. He looked young. Far younger than he really was. Ageless. Rather pretty, she supposed. His hair was ebony dark as were his wings in his raven form. His skin was clear, eyes - bright and clever. He smiled crookedly but kindly - and oh, how she hated that smile now!

The way he looked at Aurora - with such tenderness, such devotion - was it the way a father looked at his daughter or rather how a lover observed an object of his constant desire? 

No, it couldn't possibly be. She would have noticed. She should have noticed, damn it!

But she knew him. A noble and devoted creature he was, wasn't he? So ridiculous in his human form, so unexpectedly good in his role of a guardian. He had raised little Beastie almost by himself - how could he see her as anything else? As a grown up, as a woman? She was their child, a child in need of a direction - but what directions was he pushing her in?

When did he notice the sweetness of her girlish smile, the feminine curve of her hips? When did he first feel her allure? When was he first tempted?

Was she already a queen by then, a woman in her own right, although a novice in all the ways that mattered? Was that what had attracted him? Was she 18 at the time, yet innocent and full of spirit? Was she almost 16, so vulnerable in the face of impending doom, a tragic character in her own horror story? 

Did he see himself as a savior? As a lover? Anything more than the simple servant he was? Did he feel entitled to it because of their closeness, of her utmost trust? Did he consider himself human enough to want such things? A vain, audacious creature.

Unbidden, her thoughts turned back to the scene she had witnessed in the ballroom. Diaval and Aurora, dancing, her hand in his hand, his other hand tight on her waist, their eyes shiny, lips open, bodies close. They were swirling around the room as if possessed, as if nothing in the world existed but two of them. Their laughter rang throughout the whole place and even now Maleficent could hear its mocking sound. 

It hardly was the first time they had amused themselves fooling around. Diaval tended to indulge the little princess from the very first time he had taken care of her. He found her to be an endearing creature, he said. And she had been, she had been. But while Maleficent kept lying about her feelings, he was free to enjoy his own. He called the girl his joy, his sun ray, his little fledgling. And she was drawn to him recognising him instantly in any form he took. Sometimes out of curiosity or pure malice Maleficent turned Diaval into different species one after another - and as clever as her Beastie was, she never mistook him for anyone else. 

Still his human form was her favorite. Thus they could talk, said the girl. A useful thing, it seemed, a human mouth was. Fit for talking. Fit for kissing... 

Maleficent sensed a wild energy thrumming inside, just waiting to be let out. Rage clouded her mind. She felt betrayed. She felt utterly lonely. She was hurting although she hardly understood why it hurt so much. 

She had to be disgusted. And she had been for a moment, she had! But the more she thought about them together, the more she saw the beauty of it, the way they fit so perfectly together, the way Diaval's kind and thoughtful nature matched Aurora's cheerfulness. And if she left her bitter thoughts aside, who else was as suited to looking after her precious Beastie but the one who had been doing exactly that her whole life?

When Maleficent heard a rustle of another pair of wings behind, for the tiniest moment she thought it was Diaval coming after her as he usually did.

She was wrong. How absurdly presumptuous of her. 

"What do you want?" she muttered through gritted teeth, hostile and unwelcoming.

"No need to be rude." A blond faerie pulled up alongside her and chuckled raising his eyebrows, "Gods, you look tense."

"I will look any way I wish. Don't pretend to know me, Borra." She clenched her teeth tight enough to shatter them. 

"I do not," he raised both hands amicably, "that is, don't know you nor pretend to do it. But we have fought side by side..."

"Touching," she cut him off. "Enough of this rubbish. What did you really want?"

"Your charming company, of course." He sounded amused rather than offended. She didn't grace him with an answer, just spread her wings wider and pushed ahead.

"... Wait," she heard as he flew closer again. A damn stubborn faerie he was. "Wait. Bear with me for a moment. Honestly, I mean well."

"I don't need company."

"I see. But I also saw you rushing away white as a corpse and as if a fire was licking your heels. See how it could possibly get me a little bit worried?" 

"What, are you my doctor now?"

He whistled.

"Such a pleasure talking to you, Maleficent. Now I see the infamous charm they all talk about."

"You see nothing."

"Now you just insult my intelligence."

"You know nothing!"

"That may be so. But I am willing to change it." He sped up, trying to get in front of her. "Look, whatever has happened to get you so unsettled, a new perspective wouldn't hurt, you know?"

"You won't understand."

"Do you think me incapable of feelings?" This time he looked a little annoyed. "I know it's about that raven man."

Suddenly she was lacking the air to grab a breath. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest and she felt terribly light headed. She was afraid she would faint.

Maleficent bristled and stopped at once.

"Drop it, Borra. Drop it right now."

"Ooch, touchy subject?" He showed teeth as if he had a death wish, and pulled closer. "What is his name? I haven't got it. A curious creature he is."

With sheer willpower, Maleficent pulled herself together.

"He is not your concern."

"But he is clearly yours," Borra retorted pointedly.

"He is my servant."

"Is that so? Then he holds a unique position."

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Borra turned his head and glanced in the direction of the Moors. "Or do you have many of them?"

"Many of whom?"

"Servants." 

"What does it matter?" she demanded impatiently.

"Oh, nothing really. Or everything. Tell me yourself," Borra turned around again taking all of her in with rare scrutiny. "What does it matter if he is the only one who is close to you?" he pondered aloud. "What is he exactly? A servant? A confidante?" He chuckled lifting the corner of his mouth. "What else may he be to you, I wonder."

She gaped.

"How dare you imply...?!"

Now he laughed openly.

"What can I say? I am a daring creature. And a curious one too. But back to the problem." He pulled closer, forcing her to withdraw unconsciously. "If this raven of yours, this unblemished soul, this faithful servant of many years is nothing to you and means nothing, then what's got your feathers ruffled so? Is he not his own creature?"

"He is," Maleficent raised her head proudly, completely forgetting for a moment all Diaval's recent misgivings. "But he has sworn to serve me and he chooses to do so even having been set free"

"Loyal to a fault. An admirable quality. You must really appreciate him. Or do you take it all for granted?"

She kept quiet.

Did she? Did she take for granted what she had no right to? 

"You do. Of course, you do," Borra laughed again but there was no malice in his face, just satisfaction. "Is this your problem then? Has this devoted servant of yours started acting on his own? The better for him, I would say. Oh yes, you know," he went on in a slightly patronising voice. "I really feel for him if this is how you react. Now be fair, is this poor creature forbidden from having a little fun? Or is it not to your liking that he is no longer as accommodating as you are used to? Was he meant to..."

This time he really hit the nerve. All this unwanted questioning, and his dissection of her character and feelings which she hadn't asked for. And also the unbearable sense of loss and betrayal that came back with the renewed force. Maleficent saw red.

"You nosy little... little... pest!" 

She struggled with the words, having no idea herself what she wanted to say, just feeling that she needed some outlet for all the pent up fury, desperation and disgust she felt inside. She rushed at him as quick as lightning and clawed into his shoulders, pushing and pushing him back until they both lost their balance and swiveled down in an ungraceful lump. "Who do you think you are, you daring fool?" Her wings caught on the wind and she released her magic colouring the sky green.

But if she had expected to see fright on his face then she was completely mistaken. If anything he seemed fascinated. His eyes grew wider and he made no attempt to shield himself from her fury. Her fingers clawed painfully into the meat of his shoulders but instead of fighting back he held utterly still. Not compliant - rather captivated. As if she was a story turning out to be more delightful by the second, a story he was enjoying immensely. 

And just when Maleficent felt more exposed, more vulnerable and also more indignant and furious than ever - right at that moment Borra smiled. And it was with a smile that he pushed her hands resolutely away, drew closer, closer than anyone had ever dared, and kissed her with as much passion as he exercised doing anything.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, or a sweet kiss. Or even a loving kiss. It was a kiss that could devour the soul if one only let it. One body pressed tight to another, fingers tangled in the hair, magic raging around them.

She neither expected nor welcomed anything of this sort. But she was utterly consumed by the force of his desire as one is consumed by the force of nature. No one had ever dared to take anything from her against her will - except for Stephen, who had mutilated her body. At least he didn't make her enjoy it. 

And this she did enjoy.

The faerie was no one to her, just a comrade, an ally, one of her people. But he touched her as if she was everything, and he grabbed her sides as if he couldn't get enough or even fathom the thought of ever letting her go. And oh, how she ached for that sort of touch. 

So she let his hands wander and roam and mold her body. She let him cover her neck with possessive kisses. She let him pull the neckline of her dress just a little bit lower and instead of becoming spooked or disgusted or purely livid, she threw her head back and let herself be.

Everything was spinning around them.

She hardly recognised where they were when Borra finally landed them both on the ground. Breathing erratically, she quickly inspected her surroundings. It was some kind of a clearing with a thin forest in the distance. The air smelled like spring flowers, sweet and fresh, having absorbed so much of sunlight, promising a new beginning.

Suddenly self-conscious, Maleficent hurriedly covered the upper part of her breasts, raised her head high and turned to Borra.

Still out of breath, eyes shining violently, lips full and moist, hair disheveled by the wind, two red spots on his pale cheeks - he looked more attractive than ever. An excellent specimen of his people. He stood carefully still as if assessing her next actions or the impression he had had on her.

Then he said:

"I hope you do not confuse me with that human who debased you. Or with this raven of yours who is not man enough to go for what he really wants." He bared his teeth ferociously. "I am a free faerie, Maleficent. I am your equal in all the ways that matter. I am not to be smothered or diminished. Even by one like you." His eyes softened and he caressed her cheek - and so mesmerised was she that she didn't pull away. "You are a truly magnificent creature, Maleficent. A beautiful woman, too, but it's not your beauty that attracts me but your spirit, so strong and powerful, and the way you wield that power without any restraint."

He dropped his hand and continued.

"I am at the age to start my own family and it's been some time since I started looking for a worthy mate. You are right in that I hardly know you at all. But I am eager to learn and what I have already learnt is to my liking."

"What are you offering to me? A marriage?" she asked incredulously.

He smiled with just the corners of his lips.

"A courtship would be a good start, if you will." She flushed, confused and resentful. "But ultimately yes."

She wanted to refuse him outright. But her lips still tasted like him and her body still felt the ghost of the press of his. And she hadn't really realised before how hungry for touch she was. Although it was not his touch she desired.

This thought caught her unawares. Where did it come from? Had she really felt this longing before but had not been able to or possibly not been willing to recognise it? Could it be that she had been merely suppressing it all this time and now one hint, one touch of a male hand was enough to make it all come out? How pathetically humiliating!

Borra noticed her hesitance and interpreted it in his own way.

"You don't have to answer right away. I already have all the answers that I need for now." He smiled with satisfaction and made a movement towards her as if to catch her lips again, but stopped midway to add: "One day you will be the queen of our people. As your human daughter is the queen of hers. I will stay by your side, loyal and strong, and you won't ever know the lack of anything." His words were full of dignity and utmost belief. "Maybe we will even be able to have two weddings in one day. It would bring an additional sense of unity to our kingdoms. Would you wish it?"

Aurora was to marry Phillip, Maleficent knew. She would have already married him had the wedding not been postponed out of respect for all the humans and faeries perished in the fight that fateful day. Still it was not Phillip who Maleficent saw by Beastie's side in her mind's eye.

It was Diaval.

Smiling coyly but proudly, he held her small hand in his larger one as something utterly precious and when he pronounced "I do" it meant "forever". It meant "I am yours in any way you wish to have me". It meant "till my last breath". And had it all not been Maleficent's long before she learnt to appreciate the generosity of his heart? 

She imagined them entering their private suite, her Beastie flushed but eager, curious and excited and not even a little bit frightened - her brave, beautiful girl. Diaval would be absolutely terrified, but when had it ever stopped him from doing what his loved ones needed of him? His touch would be feathery soft and light, his eyes full of wonder, he would be his usual pathetic awkward self and still the most attentive and tender lover of all. 

Maleficent shivered and recoiled from Borra's touch. Everything just seemed so wrong to her. So unfair. So stupidly unfair.

No, it wasn't his touch she had desired although he would have made an admirable partner had she been looking for any at all. Still her heart didn't speak to him.

What she really wanted had always been hers to take, she had just pretended not to notice it. Too proud, too scared, too broken to even consider it an option.

Earlier in the ballroom she had imagined herself disgusted, indignant on the behalf of her daughter, or so she had thought. What she had really been was hurt. Wounded, gutted by the most gentle hand in the world. Emptied.

Lost.

Now she knew what she had felt.

Jealousy.


End file.
